


Stay Awake

by Beth Harker (Beth_Harker)



Category: Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: Gen, Modern AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-30
Updated: 2016-12-30
Packaged: 2019-09-30 10:15:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,091
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17222066
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Beth_Harker/pseuds/Beth%20Harker
Summary: Modern AU, featuring a blizzard, a computer disaster, and very important homework. Davey/Katherine friendship.





	Stay Awake

Have some modern AU, including a blizzard, a computer disaster, and very important homework.

Katherine’s apartment looked like it had met with an unholy cross between a tornado, a library, and a rampaging bull. Books and class notes lined her bed, her desk, and even portions of her floor. It was snowing outside; Katherine could make out the big fat clumps that swirled around the street lamps, rendering New York’s City’s usually busy streets empty and peaceful. Next to her, her laptop was emitting plumes of smoke. She’d spilt tea on it.

“You’ll never make it,” she texted Davey, the only one who had been awake to respond to her 3AM panic.

“Yes I will. I’m practically there.”

“ITS SNOWING,” she typed. A text message, even one with all capital letters and dubious punctuation, could not convey Katherine’s anguish. “😫😫😫😫😫😫😫😫😫😫😫😫😫😫😫😫😫😫😫😫😫😫😫😫😫😫😫😫😫😫😫😫😫😫😫😫😫😫😞😫😫😫😫😫😫😫😫😫😫😫😫😫😫😫😫😫😫😫😫😫😫😫😫,” she added, just to really drive the point home (and maybe to hide the fact that she was close to tears behind her facade of many many cheesy emoticons).

By the time that Davey did arrive (a good hour and a half later than he’d expected to, thanks to the blizzard changing a twenty minute jaunt into an epic journey), Katherine had curled up into a ball in her computer chair and fallen asleep, her ankles pressed against her desk, and her head resting between her knees. It took seven or eight loud knocks to wake her up, and when she did make it to the door, Davey looked more like the abominable snowman than her familiar friend and frequent study partner.

“Oh god, come in,” Katherine sputtered. “Did you bring a computer? You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.” Snow was blowing into the house through the open doorway, and Davey left a pile of it on the welcome mat when he tried to wipe his shoes. Still not entirely awake, Katherine rubbed her eyes and watched as he took off his shoes, coat, scarf, and earmuffs. Judging from the newly acquired bulkiness of his frame, he had to be wearing at least four sweaters underneath it all.

“I got here as fast as I could,” Davey babbled. “And yeah, I got the computer. Sort of. Did you try emailing Prof Carlson about your… um… predicament? She might…”

“She might what? Roll her eyes at me? Tell me to stop doing work at the last minute? What about your essay, did you write it already? I can’t believe you came all the way here.”

Davey looked stricken at the mention of his own essay, and Katherine felt a tinge of regret. They’d both made the mistake of signing up for Professor Carlson’s notorious Ethics in Journalism course, they were both extremely bright procrastinators, and they both had an absolute mountain of homework to face on this cold night.

“I borrowed my mom’s old laptop for you,” Davey hastened to explain. “Her exceedingly old laptop. It’s from 2001. It’s got Word, so it should work. Word’s compatible with everything, right?”

“It’ll have to work. You could show up with a Shakespearian quill and a tub of ink right now, and I’d find a way to make it work.”

“The hardest part of that would be getting the pen to send your essay as an email if class gets cancelled due to the snow.” Davey was already opening up his bag. His own computer and the clunky old thing he planned to lend Katherine were both there, wrapped up in half a dozen trash bags, to guard against moisture. Davey put them down on Katherine’s bed, and hauled out a sack of rice from underneath them.

“We can put your computer in the rice,” Davey said proudly. “I checked online. If you leave it in the rice overnight, it should dry up the tea, and it’ll be good as new.”

“Does it work if the laptop caught on fire?”

Davey’s eyes widened.

“It did,” Katherine told him. “It crackled and caught on fire. If you’d come earlier we could’ve used it to cook the rice.”

“I don’t know how to cook rice,” Davey muttered under his breath, as if this was the greatest trial of his life. His face took on the far off look of somebody who had undergone many battles in his attempts at cooking rice, and Katherine realized belatedly that he had lugged over an inordinately large amount of the stuff.

Davey shook his head, bringing himself back to earth. “Never mind about the rice. We both have essays worth thirty-five percent of our grades to finish, and until nine o'clock AM to do it.”

He was right. Katherine plugged the computer he’d brought into the outlet near her bed. It made an alarming sound as it started up, like a wind up toy on the verge of winding itself out. Davey cringed, then let out a relieved breath the moment the screen lit up. He flipped open his own computer.

“You want me to make you a pot of coffee?” Davey offered. “I’m half done.”

“I don’t trust myself with a coffee cup.”

“Good point,” Davey said, though he sounded a little bit disappointed. “We must exercise the utmost caution.” He sat down on the floor next to Katherine’s bed, scanned what he’d written, and then started to type. Katherine tried not to watch him, but sleepy as she was, she found herself staring. Davey had a way of biting his lower lip when he worked. Sometimes he would pause, highlight all of his text, unhighlight it, then highlight it again. He seemed to have at least three dozen windows and tabs open on his computer. It was a wonder he got anything done at all.

Katherine looked at her own blank document, tried to think of something to save herself from despair, then giggled.

“What is it?” asked Davey.

“It’s that little paper clip. Microsoft Office Assistant. I haven’t seen him since I was a little kid. He claims to have some tips for me. I think it’s a trap.”

“It’s definitely a trap. I’d never get any writing done if I had him on there staring at me.” Davey stretched out. He cracked his knuckles. He wasn’t doing a lot of writing anyway, and neither was Katherine. Katherine watched the office assistant blinking at her for another few minutes, and tried to simultaneously remember what she’d already had written before disaster struck, and not think about how close she’d been to finished.

“You’re going to make it,” Davey promised her.

“So are you. Just stay awake.”


End file.
